The Antiquary — Complete

We must now request our readers to adjourn to the breakfast parlour of Mr. Oldbuck, who, despising the modern slops of tea and coffee, was substantially regaling himself, more majorum, with cold roast-beef, and a glass of a sort of beverage called mum—a species of fat ale, brewed from wheat and bitter herbs, of which the present generation only know the name by its occurrence in revenue acts of parliament, coupled with cider, perry, and other excisable commodities. Lovel, who was seduced to taste it, with difficulty refrained from pronouncing it detestable, but did refrain, as he saw he should otherwise give great offence to his host, who had the liquor annually prepared with peculiar care, according to the approved recipe bequeathed to him by the so-often mentioned Aldobrand Oldenbuck. The hospitality of the ladies offered Lovel a breakfast more suited to modern taste, and while he was engaged in partaking of it, he was assailed by indirect inquiries concerning the manner in which he had passed the night.

'We canna compliment Mr. Lovel on his looks this morning, brother—but he winna condescend on any ground of disturbance he has had in the night time. I am certain he looks very pale, and when he came here he was as fresh as a rose.'

'Why, sister, consider this rose of yours has been knocked about by sea and wind all yesterday evening, as if he had been a bunch of kelp or tangle, and how the devil would you have him retain his colour?'

'I certainly do still feel somewhat fatigued,' said Lovel, 'notwithstanding the excellent accommodations with which your hospitality so amply supplied me.'

'Ah, sir!' said Miss Oldbuck looking at him with a knowing smile, or what was meant to be one, 'ye'll not allow of ony inconvenience, out of civility to us.'

'Really, madam,' replied Lovel, 'I had no disturbance; for I cannot term such the music with which some kind fairy favoured me.'

'I doubted Mary wad waken you wi' her skreighing; she dinna ken I had left open a chink of your window, for, forbye the ghaist, the Green Room disna vent weel in a high wind—But I am judging ye heard mair than Mary's lilts yestreen. Weel, men are hardy creatures—they can gae through wi' a' thing. I am sure, had I been to undergo ony thing of that nature,—that's to say that's beyond nature—I would hae skreigh'd out at once, and raised the house, be the consequence what liket—and, I dare say, the minister wad hae done as mickle, and sae I hae tauld him,—I ken naebody but my brother, Monkbarns himsell, wad gae through the like o't, if, indeed, it binna you, Mr. Lovel.'

'A man of Mr. Oldbuck's learning, madam,' answered the questioned party, 'would not be exposed to the inconvenience sustained by the Highland gentleman you mentioned last night.'

'Ay, ay—ye understand now where the difficulty lies. Language? he has ways o' his ain wad banish a' thae sort o' worricows as far as the hindermost parts of Gideon' (meaning possibly Midian), 'as Mr. Blattergowl says— only ane widna be uncivil to ane's forbear, though he be a ghaist. I am sure I will try that receipt of yours, brother, that ye showed me in a book, if onybody is to sleep in that room again, though I think, in Christian charity, ye should rather fit up the matted-room—it's a wee damp and dark, to be sure, but then we hae sae seldom occasion for a spare bed.'

'No, no, sister;—dampness and darkness are worse than spectres—ours are spirits of light, and I would rather have you try the spell.'

'I will do that blythely, Monkbarns, an I had the ingredients, as my cookery book ca's them—There was vervain and dill—I mind that—Davie Dibble will ken about them, though, maybe, he'll gie them Latin names—and Peppercorn, we hae walth o' them, for'—

'Hypericon, thou foolish woman!' thundered Oldbuck; 'd'ye suppose you're making a haggis—or do you think that a spirit, though he be formed of air, can be expelled by a receipt against wind?—This wise Grizel of mine, Mr. Lovel, recollects (with what accuracy you may judge) a charm which I once mentioned to her, and which, happening to hit her superstitious noddle, she remembers better than anything tending to a useful purpose, I may chance to have said for this ten years. But many an old woman besides herself'—

'Auld woman, Monkbarns!' said Miss Oldbuck, roused something above her usual submissive tone; 'ye really are less than civil to me.'

'Not less than just, Grizel: however, I include in the same class many a sounding name, from Jamblichus down to Aubrey, who have wasted their time in devising imaginary remedies for non-existing diseases.—But I hope, my young friend, that, charmed or uncharmed—secured by the potency of Hypericon,

With vervain and with dill, 
That hinder witches of their will,

or left disarmed and defenceless to the inroads of the invisible world, you will give another night to the terrors of the haunted apartment, and another day to your faithful and feal friends.'

'I heartily wish I could, but'—

'Nay, but me no buts—I have set my heart upon it.'

'I am greatly obliged, my dear sir, but'—

'Look ye there, now—but again!—I hate but; I know no form of expression in which he can appear, that is amiable, excepting as a butt of sack. But is to me a more detestable combination of letters than no itself.No is a surly, honest fellow—speaks his mind rough and round at once. But is a sneaking, evasive, half-bred, exceptuous sort of a conjunction, which comes to pull away the cup just when it is at your lips—

—it does allay 
The good precedent—fie upon but yet! 
But yet is as a jailor to bring forth 
Some monstrous malefactor.'

'Well, then,' answered Lovel, whose motions were really undetermined at the moment, 'you shall not connect the recollection of my name with so churlish a particle. I must soon think of leaving Fairport, I am afraid —and I will, since you are good enough to wish it, take this opportunity of spending another day here.'

'And you shall be rewarded, my boy. First, you shall see John o' the Girnel's grave, and then we'll walk gently along the sands, the state of the tide being first ascertained (for we will have no more Peter Wilkins' adventures, no more Glum and Gawrie work), as far as Knockwinnock Castle, and inquire after the old knight and my fair foe—which will but be barely civil, and then'—

'I beg pardon, my dear sir; but, perhaps, you had better adjourn your visit till to-morrow—I am a stranger, you know.'

'And are, therefore, the more bound to show civility, I should suppose. But I beg your pardon for mentioning a word that perhaps belongs only to a collector of antiquities—I am one of the old school,

When courtiers galloped o'er four counties 
The ball's fair partner to behold,